


Melody of the Heart

by Gobetti



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Voice Coach AU, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-28
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-08 19:15:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gobetti/pseuds/Gobetti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mister James Egbert is a businessman and a voice coach on his free time. Dave is a college freshman who has the hots for his best friend’s dad (who happens to be Mister Egbert himself) and a beautiful singing voice.</p><p>Shenanigans ensue.</p><p>Sexy shenanigans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FastPuck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FastPuck/gifts).



> Rating will go up with future chapters. You have been warned.
> 
>  
> 
> \---

“Now, again, Dave.”

A deep breath. In his mind, he counted down to three, forcing his shoulders to relax.

3... 2... 1...

The first note on the piano played, resonating throughout the entire house, and Dave gracefully followed the melody with his voice, mouth open in a perfect “o”, paying very close attention to his every tone, his every breath. Mister Egbert stood before him, arms crossed, staring him down with a small smirk of approval, nodding ever so slowly with each words sung correctly, and Dave forced himself to close his eyes; watching the older man observing him ever so meticulously was making him nervous as fuck, especially since Egbert never allowed him to keep his shades on during classes.

As the higher and more acute notes of the song began to come up, Dave frowned a little, breaking his spotless façade. It was hard to hide the nervousness of screwing up again, even though he had practiced that part of the song so many times before he was sure he could sing it perfectly even with earmuffs on. But being under Egbert’s stern supervision never failed to make him uneasy.

It wasn’t simply because he feared or dreaded a bad review though, or because he didn’t want to be scolded for getting the notes wrong again. That was only part of it. There was something else behind his skittishness.

But Dave would never admit it. Okay, yes he would. But only to himself – never ever out loud – and only in the privacy of his bedroom, with the blinds closed and the door locked.

Only then he dared admit to himself why Egbert’s presence always made him restless, nervous, anxious.

_fuck not the best time to be thinking those thoughts gotta keep your focus on man otherwise youll screw up a note and that wont be cool at all_

Over half the song had come and gone with Dave’s minimum acknowledge. He barely realized he was almost done, only noticing he was reaching the end of the song when the piano’s notes became faster and stronger, and his voice followed the heavy rhythm, growing with intensity and volume, getting ready for the few last notes, the most important ones.

Singing made Dave feel good. Free, even. Like a bird spreading their wings and being able to fly, to feel the wind under their body. Like he could stop pretending for those few minutes, and just let go, let himself be taken by the music flowing through his body and soul.

Anyone who ever heard of Dave or ever talked to him knew exactly how to describe him: cool. And anyone who _really_ knew Dave had a mildly different way of describing him: hipster. His obsession with photographs with antique filters and his love with anything different or unusual combined with his incessant need of being cool and aloof all the time was exactly what made Dave, as a matter of fact, not cool at all. But his friends didn’t mind that, and nor did Dave. As long as his reputation didn’t change and that his friends kept being nice and comfortable around him, he didn’t need anything else.

Dave was a vocal guy by nature. He talked a lot, even though he actually didn’t. To strangers, he usually only exchanged a word or two, and as monosyllabic as possible (he believed it contributed to his collkid act; people seemed to agree). To his friends, in private, he usually managed to loosen up a bit, talking their ears off, though not as much as he’d like, worried as he always was that they’d find him annoying and back off for good. Through Pesterchum was where the albino’s true nature was revealed; where he’d ramble to no one but himself whenever he was left alone, talk and talk and talk to no one in particular, and even if nobody ever heard him, he did it anyway. It was just Dave’s way of being... well, Dave.

Moving out to Washington to live with his best friend John in a crappy condo for college (a condo that was, conveniently, an hour away from John’s old house by bus and/or car) was, in the end, inevitable, and Dave didn’t mind it at all. He enjoyed John’s company, and he appreciated how he could always be himself around him, and though he wouldn’t admit it, even the eventual teasing had a fond and special place in his heart. Living so close to the only family he has, the coolkid knew he was bound to meet the patriarch of the Egbert household eventually, and even though he wasn’t eager or anything to get to know the old man face-to-face, everything changed once he laid eyes upon him.

Finding out he occasionally gave voice coaching classes to kids who were interested in that kind of thing only served him as a good excuse to see his best friend’s dad more often than not. John was really excited as well to have a reason to go see his dad every weekend and the occasional day off, so everything worked out for the best.

Well. Sort of.

As the last note played on the piano, Dave slowly sealed his lips, feeling his breathing heavier and faster than normal. He still kept his eyes closed, hands balled to fists on his sides, waiting. He knew John was probably looking at his dad, and that he, in retrospect, was looking at him, and that’s exactly why Dave simply stood there, waiting.

Because being judged was probably one of the most nerve-wrecking things in Dave’s life, something even worse to him than his brother’s stupid smuppets.

After what felt like an eternity, he heard a soft clap, followed by another, until it turned into a slow motion round of applause. The sound was too close and too low to be made by John, so Dave risked opening his eyes, assuming it was already safe to face Mister Egbert.

God, he felt like a five year old waiting for praise on his new crayon masterpiece or something, what is wrong with you dude, so not cool.

“Good job, Dave.” Mister Egbert smiled, the pipe safely tucked between his lips. His hairy hands reached up to hold the wooden pipe and the clapping ceased. John beamed from his seat, turning around and away from both men to put the music sheets away. Mister Egbert continued. “We still need to fix a thing here and there, but overall, the song was beautifully executed. Congratulations. I am very proud of you.”

Dave’s chest seemed to swell; he almost felt his face flush for a second, but he forced his heartbeat to decrease. He needed to cool down and stop thinking about how awfully handsome Egbert looked smiling fondly at him like that.

God damn it.

“Thanks, Mister Egbert.” Dave whispered, tucking his fists into his hoodie pocket, and Egbert closed his eyes, waving his head slowly.

“Please,” he spoke, deep voice barely above a whisper. “call me James.”

And Dave knew at that moment that he had it bad for the older guy.

 _So_ bad.

And that he didn’t mind that one bit.


	2. Chapter 2

“Dude, aren’t you coming?”

“Oh?” John turned around from his computer, looking confusedly at Dave before widening his eyes and hitting his forehead with his palm. Dave held back the urge to snort. “Shit, I forgot! Your vocal lessons!”

 

“Well, yeah. So are you coming or what?”

“Gee Dave, I have a ton of homework to do, I don’t think I can afford taking the entire day off, even if it’s for a good cause.”

Dave raised a single eyebrow. “Listening to me sing?”

“Playing the piano, doofus!” John laughed, reaching for a pillow on his back and throwing it at the blonde. Dave propelled the offending object away easily and gave John a half smile. “But seriously, I can’t go. Could you tell my dad I’m sorry?”

Dave shrugged, throwing his backpack over his shoulders. “Sure thing.” He said, already opening the door of their shared dorm room.

“And don’t even think about bringing a cake back home like last time!! I will make you eat all of it, Dave, I swear to god!”

“See you later, Egbert.”

And with that, he was gone.

Now, if right then and right there, you’d ask Dave how he felt, he’d have the answer on the tip of his tongue.

Pretty chill alright.

Which obviously meant that he was not chill at all, because if he was, in fact,  _chill_ , he would probably say something like “Why? Do I look sick? Is there something on my face? I will kill Egbert if he drew a sad smiley on my nose with permanent ink while I was asleep again.”

The reason why Dave was not so chill wasn’t exactly for the fact that he had history of music homework that he hadn’t even started, or the fact that his best friend was so preoccupied with homework that he didn’t even had time for him ( _no im not whining shut up_ ), or that their microwave had broken down a week ago and that he’d probably have to face another evening of cold meals and raw ramen yet again.

It was mostly because of the perspective of having Mister Egbert senior expecting him, waiting for him, greeting him when he arrived.  His stomach did a small flip flop as he walked away from the building, going straight to the bus stop, all the while trying to calm his desperate heartbeat.

In any case, that’s how Dave felt in actuality. He felt nervous – the good kind of nervous, complete with blushing cheeks and butterflies in his stomach – because he was going to spend an entire afternoon at the Egbert’s house, alone with is monarch, opening his heart and soul as he sang to his teacher.

The bus stopped before Dave, and the albino boy had only a second to snap out of his daydream before it took off without him. His unbreakable poker face was still in place, but he thanked god that John wasn’t there with him, because even though his expression was unreadable, his barely perceptible hesitation would be obvious like a pink elephant to his best bro, and he sure as hell wasn’t ready to explain to him that his dad eventually made him lose track of time, what with how beautifully handsome and just goddamn amazing he was.

He stepped inside the bus, paid for the trip, and sat down on the furthest seat, plugging on his ear buds and drowning into his own music.

Without John by his side, Dave was just another college kid, another student. He wondered if Mister Egbert would treat him differently without John around.

For some reason, Dave hoped he would.

 

—

 

“David! You’re awfully early.”

“Sup.” The boy greeted the older man, nodding once. Mister Egbert gave him a curt nod back, going out of the way so that Dave could enter the house.

“Not much, I dare say. You didn’t bring John along this time?”

“Nope. Egbert junior had some homework to take care of, I’m afraid.”

Mister Egbert raised a brow as he closed the front door. “Oh, did he?”

“Yup. He sent his regards and his most sincere apologies. I swear, the kid can’t stay a week away from your cakes and he already gets all kinds of emotional, Mister Egbert. Your baked goods are like his fuel or something”

Mister Egbert chuckled and waved his head, sensing the sarcastic undertone on Dave’s words.

“I’m sure they are, David. Would you care for some water before our lesson?”

“I’d love some apple juice, Mister Egbert. Always the gentleman.” Dave smiled, already entering the kitchen, and James only had a fraction of a second to be appalled; the next, he chuckled softly again, following the teen into the kitchen.

“And what if I don’t have apple juice?” he asked, opening the fridge and eyeing Dave sternly as he sat down onto a chair and almost propped his feet up on top of the table, stopping himself midair under mister Egbert’s disapproving gaze. He shrugged, crossing his feet on the floor.

“I’d call bullsh—I mean, poppycock.” Mister Egbert raised a single brow as far as it could go, grinning amusedly, and Dave fought back a smile of his own. “I’d call _poppycock_ , Mister Egbert. I’ve known John all my life, and we both know that he keeps a small stock of apple juice in your house like the best friend a bro could ever have in the entire world.”

“Well, I can’t really argue with that irrefutable logic, now, can I.” he grinned, reaching for a small bottle of unopened apple juice that sat neatly next to the water bottle and closing the fridge behind him as he walked towards his loyal student. “Though I must admit, I am fairly impressed with your dodging abilities and evasive maneuvers, David. Tell me, did you think of the word ‘poppycock’ all on your own?”

“Watched America’s Got Talent a few days ago.” He said, grinning behind the bottle cap. “Let me tell ya, that man was so stylish, gay clothes designers wept at the mere sight of his awesomeness. His name being ‘John’ is just the cherry on top of the most delicious irony cake ever.” A small gulp, and Mister Egbert sat in the chair across from dave, watching as he chugged down the drink greedily. “Also, he had a fucking amazing voice.”

“Language, David.” Mister Egbert scolded, and Dave nearly choked on his drink.

“Oh yeah, right. Sorry. It slipped.”

“That’s alright, I noticed your enthusiasm; I’ll let that one slide. Say, were you studying the man’s vocal abilities? Because I must agree that they were rather marvelous.”

“I wouldn’t say studying. More like, appreciating. I’d never be able to do the things that guy does, honestly.”

James leaned forward, grinning.

“Oh, but I believe you could attempt doing an opera act, Dave. I agree your voice isn’t the most appropriate one for most songs, and that it may not reach a few tones, but with some practice I believe you’d make a good aspiring opera singer.”

Dave widened his eyes, the bottle of apple juice tipped on his mouth, the liquid cold against his sealed lips. He gulped, licked his lips, and set the bottle down.

Mister Egbert was still leaning over the table, one elbow resting over the polished wood, eyes half open and shooting the boy an intense gaze: a dare. Dave could barely contain the blush threatening to spread over his cheeks at the sight of such sassy expression.

Oh, he’d do anything for that man.

“Uh. Sorry, what was the question again?”

“There was no question, David.”

“Oh. There wasn’t? ‘Cause I could’ve sworn there was.”

“That may have been the impression, but I only made a solid, irrefutable statement.” And in a swift motion, mister Egbert got up from his chair, walked around the table and offered his hand (his callused, big, slightly hairy and warm hand) to Dave, who hesitated for merely a fraction of a second before taking it and getting up from his seat as well. He thanked the gods for his sunglasses, who hid his wide eyes and his embarrassed features.

“We’re learning how to sing opera today, David. I hope you’re ready.”

“And what if I’m not?!”

“Well, then… all I can say it’s that it’s a true shame.”

 

—

 

Dave sang.

Dave sang with all his heart, with all his being, with all the enthusiasm he had.

He wasn’t half bad at opera, though just like mister Egbert stated, his voice wasn’t really fit to it and it was easy to see that he was struggling to keep his tone loud and steady. The song they chose (Dave began singing Figaro as soon as they walked inside mister Egbert’s office, allegedly to warm up his voice, though James knew it was merely because he was being playful) was “La Donna e Mobile”, and Dave smiled to himself as mister Egbert set the instrumental version of the song on the computer on loop, handing the teen a sheet of paper with the lyrics to the song. Mister Egbert interrupted his performance here and there to tell him to do this or that, to breathe like this, to exhale like that, and eventually to correct a word or a phase pronounced incorrectly or out of rhythm, though by the fourth time the song played, the teen had already memorized the song, to which James nodded solemnly in approval.

Dave loved his opera class. Not because it was nice to step out of his comfort zone, or because it felt good to try out different things, but because Mister Egbert took it as seriously as all his other classes. He loved when the older man stepped behind him and placed a hand over his chest and another on his back to correct his stance (he’d never admit to mess it up in purpose every once in a while just so he could feel those hands on him, firm and gentle and oh so warm). He loved how James sang lowly on his ear in an unspoken order for the albino to keep singing even while the man was trying to correct his slouching posture. He loved watching the man breathe in, fill his lungs with air and expand his wide chest in preparation, only to let it all out in a long, loud tone, in perfect synchrony with the song, his deep voice perfect for said musical style.

At first, Dave thought he was just physically attracted to his best friend’s dad, but in moments like these, when James lost himself in the music and waved his arms and moved his body to the rhythm of the song as if he was on a stage and the whole world was his greatest audience…

Dave knew he was head over heels in love.

When Dave finally, finally managed to hold the last note until it was (sort of) acceptable, James gave him a slow clap, walking away towards the computer on his desk to stop the music. Dave felt a cold breeze going past him with the absence of the steady hand on his back, but he appreciated the view he got of the man’s ass in his fancy slacks. He smirked to himself.

“Very well done, David. You’ve done a marvelous job. I believe we’re all set for the day, don’t you?”

“Already?” Dave whined, letting his shoulders droop, and James turned around, smiling amusedly. “Why, pops, we’ve still got all day long! Let’s stop from where we left off last week, how does that sound?”

“You’ve been awfully energetic today, David.” He commented nonchalantly, reaching for his pipe on the desk and a pack of matches on the drawer. “Might I ask if John’s absence is behind your hyperactivity?”

“John’s absence?” Dave repeated out loud, cocking his hip to the side and crossing his arms. “Are you implying that I am tense around my very best friend? That’s nonsense.” And he finally smiled. “Or rather, that’s  _poppycock_ , Mister Egbert, and you know it.”

Mister Egbert chuckled, puffing smoke out of his now lit pipe, and waved his head. He flicked the used match onto the trashcan and leaned back onto the seat, eyeing Dave carefully. Dave felt his cock twitch in the confinement of his pants. He gulped dryly.

“Alright then. If it’s not John’s absence, then… might it be because we’re by ourselves?”

Dang.

Egbert: one; Dave: zero.

“Pffft, what?! Can you even  _hear yourself_ , Mister Egbert? It’s like you’re implying I actually  _enjoy_  spending time with an old geezer like yourself. I mean,  _please_. Why would I ever prefer spending some quality alone time with you rather than with all the hip and cool people I go to college with? You’re being silly.”

Mister Egbert’s grin only widened, and Dave kicked himself in the head for the most embarrassing and most offensive monologue he has ever made in his entire life. Silly?  _Silly??_   _Old geezer? Hip people?!?!?!_  Who even says that anymore??? Way to go, jerkface.

He was about to open his mouth to apologize (profusely) when mister Egbert fixed himself on his chair, his looks getting even more smug than before. _Pranking master_ , Dave reminded himself. Gotta tiptoe around this guy, or you’re fucked.

“ _Uh huh_.” James murmured slowly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and puffing at his pipe again. “Well, then I suppose you won’t mind leaving an  _old geezer_  like me alone to smoke his pipe and indulge in some alone time for himself, now would you.”

“Well, it’s not like I wouldn’t mind, but come on, you gotta admit, I’m as cool as cool can get. Chill as ice itself. Freezing as the North and South Pole. Frigorific as fucking Canada.” James quirked an eyebrow, and Dave raised both hands in apologies. “My bad, my bad. Anyway, point is, you really think that being all alone with your squeaky rocking chair and your smelly old pipe is a better recreation than spending time with  _me_? Come on, Mister Egbert. I mean, you could definitely afford to learn a new move or two with the master of awesomeness.” Dave looked away, finally remembering about the shades on top of his head. He placed them back down over his eyes and fixed his hair. “Besides. The people in my class are all boring and so not worth my precious time. They really ought to learn a thing or two about Strider privileges, ‘cause they sure as hell have none, even though they seem to believe I just go around, giving those away like free candy. I mean,  _really_.”

“Really.” James repeated, and Dave fought the blush spreading to his cheeks. “Strider… privileges?”

“Uh.”

The man rose to his feet and waved his head, holding his pipe on his right hand.

“Come on, Dave. I think the cake I left in the oven must be cool by now. Not as cool as you, though. Never. The cake wouldn’t dare dethrone the king of awesomeness. Such atrocity wouldn’t be forgiven by the man as chill as ice itself, now would it?”

“Damn right it wouldn’t.” Dave murmured, knowing when he was being made fun of, but for some reason, it was a familiar sensation. Like interacting with John, sans all the goofiness and plus all the mangrit he could possibly hold.

Yeah. Dave was a-okay with that change of pace.

They walked to the kitchen and ate some freshly backed cake, exchanging only a word here and there, and when Dave announced he had some homework to do, Egbert offered his kitchen table for the task. In five minutes, Dave was writing down on his notebook as James sat across from him, reading a newspaper in a comfortable silence.

Dave felt calm around Mister Egbert, and his presence was soothing and marvelous. The teen unconsciously smiled more than once or twice while doing his homework, just thinking about how damn lucky he was for knowing and being able to spend time with such an amazing man, and though mister Egbert knew Dave was trying to be sneaky about it, he saw each and every one of the boy’s smiles, grinning softly to himself as well.

True happiness can’t be measured, he thought, drawing his attention back to the paper and the warm pipe on his fingers.

 

—

 

“Okay, now you choose.”

“Alright. Hmmm… are you familiar with any Disney song?”

“Aw, come  _on_.”

“They were your rules, David, not mine. Not it’s do or die.”

Dave groaned, unable to hold back his smile, and threw his head back against the couch seat. “Alright, alright, fair enough. Shoot.”

“The muses song, from Hercules?”

Dave widened his eyes. “You mean the first song? With the dancing ladies and everything?”

“So you are familiar with it.” he chuckled, smiling fondly. Dave groaned.

“Fuck, okay, okay, and  _no don’t even say anything_  I totally deserved that cursing free pass.”

James nodded once. “Fair enough.”

“Alright. Alright, okay. I’m doing this. I’m doing this. Jesus. Okay.”

“I’m waiting.”

Dave frowned.

Oh his revenge would be  _sweet_.

He hopped to his feet, hand on his hip, a single finger in the air. He put on his best sassy black girl mode and bobbed his head to the sides.

“ _Back when the world was new~_ ”

“Oh lord almighty.” Mister Egbert murmured, stifling his laugh. Dave kept a serious face while singing though, even as he kept up with his performance, dancing and walking and hopping around the living room, even stepping up on top of the coffee table when the song reached its peak. Mister Egbert downright bawled his eyes out when the boy moonwalked away from the couch with tiny little steps, much like the girls from the movie do, and Egbert clapped, wiping his watery eyes and breathing heavily.

“I must admit, Dave, if you didn’t have such a wonderful singing voice, I’d tell you now that you have a real knack for acting. That was  _marvelous_. Priceless, even.”

“Of course it was.” He said, smiling to himself and blushing a little as he plopped back down on the couch next to Mister Egbert. “I’m the king of all things awesome, remember? Not even the cake wanted to dethrone me.” he reached for the glass of scotch on the end table next to him and took the tiniest sip possible (it tasted horrible) before handing it back to mister Egbert, who took a rather large sip of the golden drink. “Okay, now it’s your turn.”

James sat the glass next to him, laughing softly. “You’re not going to go easy on me, are you.”

“Nope.”

“Fair enough.” He nodded, turning a little towards Dave. The albino boy looked at him and held back a sigh, his heart nearly stopping on its tracks. The faint smile on the man’s lips and his flushed cheeks and crinkled eyes from laughing were probably the most endearing thing he had ever seen in his life. “Hit me with your best shot, young man. I am ready.”

Oh he was so not ready.

“’Livin’ In The Sunshine’. And you gotta imitate Tiny Tim’s tone.”

Mister Egbert widened his eyes, his jaw going slack. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh, so you are familiar with it.” Dave mocked, waggling both eyebrows. “Fair’s fair, mister Egbert. Come on. Come, now.” And he turned his head around, looking up at the ceiling, smiling widely. “I don’t hear any singiiiing.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll do it.” he huffed, stirring uncomfortably on the couch. Dave looked down again, watching as mister Egbert’s face scrunched down in concentration only to relax and wrinkle all over again, as if he was scenting something rancid in the air. Dave almost felt like papping his face or patting his head. Mister Egbert opened his mouth.

When he sang the first few words, he chocked and stuttered awkwardly. Dave doubled over himself with laughter; it was almost as if Mister Egbert had tried breathing some sort of modified helium gas. The man stopped, coughing and spurting in embarrassment.

“Well, you were much more embarrassing prouncing around the room!” he argued, neck and ears red as a bell pepper, but Dave waved his head and looked straight at mister Egbert, tears spilling down the corner of his red eyes.

“At least I  _owned_  it.” he choked out, gasping for air as he clutched at his trembling sides. “The song didn’t even saw it coming. Admit it; funny or not, my performance was fucking awesome.  _That_ , though,” Dave giggled again, and James downright frowned like a little kid. “that was kind of pathetic, Mister Egbert. No offense.”

“ _No offense_.” James repeated under his breath just as he brought the glass up to his lips, taking another sip of his scotch. Dave thought the action to be almost childish (and maybe a little endearing;  _cute_ , even). “Alright,  _fine_. I admit defeat. May we please play some other game?”

“Yeah, sure, like what?”

He frowned again, taking a last sip of the drink and setting the empty glass down on top of a coaster on the coffee table. “I have no idea. It is getting kind of late, though.”

“It’s okay, I’ll just sleep in John’s room. I called him earlier and told him I’m crashing here for the night, don’t wanna risk getting mugged and all. It’s pretty dark outside already.”

Mister Egbert hummed, totally missing the fact that Dave had just invited himself to spend the night over. All in all, he really didn’t mind; it was nice to have some company every once in a while. Dave stared at the man, at his slightly his flushed cheeks and swollen lips, until a thought occurred to him.

“John always told me you were ten times greater than him at the piano.” He said nonchalantly. James looked back for a second before turning his head back to stare blankly at the carpet, a million confusing thoughts running over his mind.

 “Nonsense.” He murmured. “John is just as good as I am. I taught him everything I know.”

“Yeah, but you have like twenty years on him in practice. I bet you play beautifully.”

He paused, looking thoughtful.

“You have never heard me play, have you, David.”

Dave waved his head, sitting down straight on the couch and imitating Mister Egbert’s slouched position. “Not really, no.”

James looked sideways to the teen, and they both stared at each other for a few long seconds, studying blank expressions as if they had all the answers.

“Would you like to?”

 

—

 

Dave wanted to stay up by the piano, but no. Mister Egbert  _insisted_  he take a seat by his side, on the teeny tiny wooden stool. He accepted, but only because he was still feeling a bit warm and fuzzy from the drink he just had (he was a rather light weight, especially for strong drinks) and because damn if he was going to refuse an invitation to be so close to Mister Egbert.

Much to his contentment, Dave found that being arm to arm and leg to leg next to the older man wasn’t, in fact, uncomfortable. It was… soothing. Nice. He felt the touch of the older man’s bare forearm against his own, the warmth of his thighs from behind his work slacks through the thickness of his black jeans, and his heartbeat increased yet again, his face flushing from the intimacy of the whole scenario. Suddenly, the comfortable closeness became awkward, and the teen tensed up, struggling to maintain his poker face in place.

They stood quiet like that until the tension in the air was so thick Dave was sure he could cut it with a knife or something, but just as he was opening his mouth to suggest a song, Mister Egbert reached for the keys before him and began playing. Dave immediately recognized the song, slow and melancholic in his ears: “Can’t Help Falling in Love”. Huh. How… weird. He clearly remembered John mentioning once that his dad was a huge fan of Elvis, but that he only played his songs on the piano when he was feeling particularly happy or emotional. Dave wondered only for a second why mister Egbert had chosen that particular song (the very song that described his current situation with the father of his best friend oh so well), and what did it  _mean_  – if it actually did meant anything at all – because when the timing was just right, Mister Egbert began singing.

His voice was deep and steady, and Dave was hypnotized with the way mister Egbert’s lips moved, how his tongue peeked out every now and then to wet them, how he played the piano with beautiful perfection even with his eyes closed. He felt the vibration of the man’s chest against his arm with every deeper note, felt the way he sang with all his heart, saw the way his brows creased and furrowed with every verse and spoken word.

Dave watched his lips move in pure amazement, felt his own heart beating desperately against his rib cage, overwhelmed with the situation he found himself in. If Dave had any doubt of his feelings before, now he couldn’t be surer of the admiration and the affection and the aching love he felt for the older man.

He didn’t even realize when the song was over, the piano gone silent, for his attention was still on the man’s lips and on the man’s lips only.

“David…?”

Dave couldn’t help himself. He told the voice, the worried, stupidly loud voice on the back of his head to shut the fuck up, and he leaned in and kissed those lips, as softly and gently as possible, closing his eyes as he tried to translate into that simple touch everything he felt at that moment. His heart fluttered madly inside his chest, both thrilled with the new step he was taking and with the fear of rejection, of never being allowed to return to this house, of so many things altogether…

But he knew he’d always regret not doing this if he didn’t do it now.

He pulled back, slowly, carefully. He opened his eyes, looking down at mister Egbert’s half open mouth, thought of how wonderful it’d be to kiss them again, to lick them, to hear them sing against his own—

“Please.” He murmured, looking up into Mister Egbert’s slightly wide and startled blue eyes. “Call me Dave.”

And mister Egbert leaned back in towards Dave, sealing their lips together, making the boy inhale sharply, hold on onto the man’s arms for dear life, press back against him, blink back the tears of happiness, of longing, of relief—

Dave Strider held the man against his chest with all his might, and James sighed contently through his nose, kissing the boy and holding him back, not really knowing what they were both doing, knowing only that it felt right and wonderful and just  _perfect_.

And that was all that really mattered in the end.


	3. Chapter 3

In that moment, they knew happiness.

James had, indeed, noticed the boy’s advances throughout the day; he noticed every single innuendo, the almost imperceptible hitches of Dave’s breath whenever he touched him, the way he looked his way without his shades on during their vocal lessons. And as Dave leaned in to finally, _finally_ allow their lips to touch, he was scared, hesitant to return the boy’s affection, because that’s it, _he’s just a boy_ , and when he considered backing away, when he decided to pull back and push Dave away, he realized how immersed in the moment the teen was, how even if he had indeed noticed James’ hesitation and fears Dave wouldn’t have acted much differently, because as soon as their lips met, Dave grasped his arms, furrowed his brows and whined softly, both with adoration and relief and just...

He kissed Dave back. Slowly at first, roughly and desperately afterwards, and on the back of his mind he wondered to himself if his shaved mustache prickled his skin, though he was trying his hardest to forget about everything and just hold the boy close, get lost in the sensations, in the feeling of the moment. And when the albino teen slid his warm tongue out, requesting access, he moaned lowly, almost against his own will, and wondered for a second just how many years had it been since the last time he french kissed someone.

Way too long, that’s for certain.

He opened his mouth almost instantly, leaning forward towards the lithe frame before him and holding the back of his head while his free arm pulled their chests flush together, and Dave almost sobbed, plunging his tongue inside Mister Egbert’s mouth with all the enthusiasm of an inexperienced person.

When they finally parted, their lips were red and swollen, wet with each other’s saliva, eyes foggy and half lidded, and both their hairs were messy, all of that combined with flushed cheeks, panting breaths and fluttering heartbeats.

Mister Egbert shook his head and looked down in shame.

“This is wrong.”

“...what?”

“This is wrong, David. I can’t— _we_ can’t do this. I’m too old for you, this is not—”

“James.”

His breath hitched as he inhaled sharply through his nose. He had never heard Dave call him by his first name.

“...yes?”

“You’re not taking advantage of me. Don’t know if you remember, but I kissed you first.”

“Yes, but—“

“Shoosh.”

A finger was pressed against his lips, making mister Egbert lean back and look down at the teen’s hand, a little cross eyed. Dave would’ve probably laughed at the scene if he wasn’t so busy staring at his lips.

“God, you’re delicious. Has anyone ever told you that, James?”

“Um, nobody has ever compared me to a delicacy, no.” he stuttered awkwardly. Dave smirked.

“Well, then let me be the first to tell you. You are one _fine_ delicacy, James. And just because you’re older doesn’t mean you’re taking advantage of me. I _want_ this. I’m already nineteen. I’m capable of making my own decisions and facing the consequences of anything I might do or choose to do. And right now I’m choosing to be with you.” and he looked up into the older man’s blue eyes, searching for something, _anything_. “That is, if you want me back. ‘Cause I don’t wanna force you into doing anything you don’t want either, y’know.”

James was speechless. Dave’s tone was very serious, and the final words had a hint of fright, of hesitation to them. Like he didn’t want to ask what he just did because he was afraid of the answer he might get.

James reached forward, cupping Dave’s face onto his own hand, and immediately the boy closed his eyes, humming softly and nuzzling onto his palm like an affectionate kitten.

“I’m worried about... defiling you.” he whispered, and Dave chuckled again, amused.

“I think it’s kind of way too late for that. Bro’s puppets took care of that part of my childhood already.”

“God, don’t say that, David.”

“Why not? It’s the truth. No matter how you look at it, I’m not a blushing virgin ready to be deflowered, James. I’m a grown teenager with a massive crush over one of the hottest and most amazing men he has ever met, and he’s willing to try and make their relationship work if the gorgeous and amazing man is down with it.” and he opened his eyes, looking back up at mister Egbert. “So, are you down with it?”

Mister Egbert’s mind worked slowly, the cogs and gears turning and creaking, processing what Dave had just said, until, finally, he whispered, “...you think I’m amazing?”

Dave scoffed. “Who doesn’t? I mean, you’re nice, caring, an amazing baker, a fucking awesome sense of humor...”

“Language, Dave.”

“Sorry. Great with a hammer, extrem— wait. Did you...” and he looked up, leaning away from the man’s hand, eyes wide behind his shades. “Did you just call me ‘Dave’?”

“I... guess I did.” He mumbled, looking as startled and confused as Dave, and the boy took that moment to lean in and give the men a small peck on the lips.

“Please stop me.” he said, pecking his lips again, staring into sky blue eyes that looked exactly like John’s. “If you really don’t want this, if you’re not cool with this, then please, for the love of god, _stop me_. Because if you don’t—“ another peck. “I will smother you—“ another. “with my kisses.”

And the last kiss lingered for much, much longer, a gentle press of lips, eyes shut tightly, making white spots appear behind Dave’s eyes.

“James...” he moaned against the older man’s lips, and that was it. Mister Egbert forgot about any morals he had (who could even tell if they were right anyway?) and closed the distance between him and Dave, kissing him again like it was their first time. They both hummed greedily, wrapping themselves in each other’s arms in a tight hug, before mister Egbert got up (Dave yelped loudly, not that he’d ever admit it) and carried the skinny frame in his arms to the couch, where they snuggled, kissed, whispered sweet words to each other, confided worries, shared promises, offered love.

They fell asleep not much later, with Dave half curled up against Mister Egbert’s side, half lying on top of him in a display of gangly limbs and clingy affection.

James was awake much before Dave. He sighed, remembering the events of the previous night, resting his hand on top of the boy’s platinum blond hair and petting it slowly. He nearly forgot how it felt to have someone by his side, to have a partner, a company in the morning. It felt good. He felt warm and comfortable with the teen atop of him, and he wondered if they could possibly stay like that forever.

“Dave,” he whispered as softly as possible, making the albino hum and shift. He hid his face in Egbert’s neck and clung to his undershirt. The blanket covering them both slid down and showed some of Dave’s pale shoulder. He gulped. “Dave. Would you like some waffles for breakfast?”

“You mean after the morning cuddle? I’m all up for it,” he mumbled almost incoherently, shifting closer to the body beside him and nuzzling his neck. “God you’re so warm. My bed is like an ice block in the morning.”

“I guess it’s because all of the chillness you exude with your every single heartbeat, am I right?”

“Damn straight.”

James chuckled, turning on his side and drawing the boy close to his chest, fixing the blanket over them both.

“Your morning breath is quite terrible.”

“Thanks. Yours is just as nasty.”

“Fair enough.”

And with that, they were kissing again, morning breath be damned.

Dave had considered this moment many times before, but now that he was there, doing it, actually kissing Egbert’s lips, he could say for sure that none of his fantasies compared to this single moment. His hands were trapped between his chest and James’, their legs tangled together, his toes curled up against Egbert’s calf, feeling the soft hair and scratching the skin with his toe nails. His hands travelled up to cup the man’s face, feeling the slight stubble already growing all over his jaw. God, he wanted this man. _Needed_ , even. It was physically painful to be so close and not so close at all.  Dave squirmed a little, trying to get closer still and to back off all at the same time, a little afraid to freak the man out with his morning boner.

Egbert looked down at Dave, breaking the kiss. “Changed your mind already?” he asked, probably talking about the damn waffles, but Dave didn’t trust his voice to say “no.” He knew that if he tried he’d let out a string of moans and sighs that he’d regret. So he just went “hng” as he tried to scoot away (but not really being able to because of James’ arms around him), and he knew the man wouldn’t have heard it if only they weren’t so close to each other.

When his hardening erection brushed against Mister Egbert’s thigh, making him blush, James widened his eyes and raised both eyebrows, amused by the boy’s awkwardness.

“Well, good morning to you too.” He whispered playfully, kissing him on the lips with a smile that both could swear was becoming permanent. “Come on, let’s go have breakfast.”

 

\--

 

The following weeks were heaven just as much as they were hell.

Life went on. Dave went back to his flat with John a little reluctantly, kissing the older man until they were both out of breath, just to make sure mister Egbert would remember him until the next time he came by.

The problem was, John showed up just as frequently as Dave, and that made things a little harder to handle. John sat at the piano, playing away, completely unaware of the lustful glances his father and his best friend exchanged. The pained looks, the longing touches, the briefly shared whispers coated with frustration and pent up energy.

Dave, for once, was grateful for John’s obliviousness.

One day though, Dave snapped. He and Mister Egbert had been dating (sort of; neither one of them knew how to label their relationship, so they simply didn’t) for three months already, and they hadn’t kissed properly in almost two weeks. It was driving Dave up the wall. He got up from his beanbag on a particularly boring Sunday afternoon and fled from his apartment like it was on fire, telling John he was going “for a walk” on his way out. He ran towards Egbert’s house, flinging himself into James’ arms the second the door was open.

Much to his dismay, though, he wasn’t exactly welcomed.

“I’m going out in half an hour, Dave, I’m extremely sorry.”

“What?” he asked, pulling the most un-ironic puppy face he ever did pull. James shook his head, brought Dave inside and kissed him on the lips before gently pushing him away with an apologetic look. Only then Dave noticed the navy blue tuxedo he was wearing, complete with a matching vest, fedora, a white shirt and the most expansive looking tie he’d ever seen. The entire outfit looked brand new, or at least very well conserved and meticulously ironed and dry washed.

“I am really sorry. I appreciate the surprise visit, but I have a commitment I simply cannot miss. People are expecting me.”

“...you look gorgeous.” Dave whispered before he could help himself, and looked up into James’ blue eyes before the older man could say anything. “Mind if I come too?”

“Actually...” he mumbled, fidgeting a bit with his cuffs and looking thoughtful. Finally he shook his head. “You might as well, anyway, since you came all the way here. Come, I think John’s old clothes might fit you.”

“What’s wrong with the clothes I’m wearing? They’re totally rad.”

The man chuckled deeply and shook his head, leading Dave up the stairs.

“I’m sure they’re plenty ‘rad’, Dave, but if you want to come along, a change of attire might be in order.”

And oh boy, was it ever.

When Egbert’s car stopped in front of the fanciest restaurant Dave had ever seen – he widened his eyes and allowed his mouth to slack open through the safety of the car’s tinted windows – he knew nobody would ever let him walk into that place wearing a dirty pair of red and white Qix sneakers, his favorite (and pretty worn out) broken record shirt and his old, dark jeans. Hell, he felt pretty underdressed still, even though he was wearing black dress pants, a navy blue shirt with pinstripes, a black satin tie and a pair of black leather shoes. He felt so completely out of place it was ridiculous. They stepped out of the car and Mister Egbert handed his keys to the valet waiting by the car.

“The maître is waiting for you.” he announced, and James nodded once.

“I will talk to him right away, thank you Smith.”

“Where _are_ we?” Dave whispered to Egbert as they walked inside an ample, white marbled salon, and the man smiled kindly at him.

“This,” he said, gesturing widely with his arm, “is my definition of ‘fun’.”

Dave and Egbert were then led by the maître – an older man with blond hair and Italian accent – to a small round table for one person, and when he asked James if he wasn’t going to sit with him, he waved his head, looking amused.

“My seat is right over there.” He enlightened, pointing at somewhere behind him, and when Dave tilted his head to look behind Mister Egbert, it took all his will force to not let his jaw drop again.

In the middle of the salon there was a grand piano, shiny, white and as majestic as anything could ever be. Dave had spotted it as soon as they entered the room, but he didn’t think, not even for a second, that James...

“I play here every once in a while, as a kind of favor to the owners.” The man explained, and Dave turned his full attention back at Egbert. “They pay me for my services, but I honestly would do it even if they didn’t. I love coming here; playing and singing, and the people that frequent this restaurant adore my music, so I couldn’t possibly be happier.”

“No violinist to play with you?” Dave asked, and James shook his head, smiling fondly. Dave’s heartbeat increased just a little at the sight.

“The customers really like the sound of my piano.”

 

\--

 

Apparently, Dave was a VIP guest. As soon as Mister Egbert sat down at the piano bench (he was glad he had front row seats to the show, since he could see Egbert perfectly from where he sat), a very polite waiter came and introduced himself to him, offering the menu and asking Dave’s preference for wine.

“I’m not old enough to drink yet.” He mumbled, feeling more than just a bit shy, and the waiter waved his head. Dave frowned, opening the menu on his hands; everything was in Italian. No prices, either.

“Not a problem. I will bring you grape juice then, is that alright with you?”

“Apple.” He said, looking up at the waiter. “Apple juice would be, uh... would be nice. If that’s okay.”

The young man nodded. “Apple juice it is. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

The apple juice brought to Dave was probably the best shit he ever had in his entire life, and the various tiny (but delicious) little meals, all chosen by how ridiculous they sounded when he spoke out loud, seemed to cost more than his own rent. _Each_. The waiter smiled at Dave’s antics, teaching him the basic of table etiquette when the boy struggled to find out which fork he was supposed to use with which food.

But what truly baffled Dave wasn’t the rich looking people filling the formerly empty tables or the drink on his glass, nor the food on his plate. It was Mister Egbert’s performance.

The first few notes that came from the grand piano echoed through the salon, and shortly after, his deep baritone voice followed, leaving the teen completely mesmerized, to the point where the waiter had to tap him in the shoulder to get his attention. Soon it was almost ten o’clock, but James seemed to have an endless songs list, and he played and sang, looking as if he was having a marvelous time.

When his empty dessert plate was taken away, Dave hesitated, gathering up the courage to ask for the tab. The waiter merely nodded and walked away, leaving Dave restless and nervous on his cushioned seat. Soon after, the maître – Mark, he recalled briefly – approached his table, stopping before Dave and somewhat blocking his view of the piano. The man asked what he thought of the dinner, and Dave smiled kindly, complimenting everything, from the food to the kind and patient treatment he was given. Mark nodded, looking content.

“I actually came by to tell you that James offered his night salary to pay for your meal,” he said, and before Dave could argue, he raised a single hand. “And I was repeatedly assured by him that it absolutely wouldn’t be a problem, but I thought that, perhaps, you’d appreciate a different option...?”

“What option?” Dave asked, suspicious, and the maître smiled coyly.

“Sing for the rest of the night alongside James,” he said, gesturing towards the piano. “James told me a while ago that he gives you vocal lessons, and that you are quite marvelous indeed. He deeply admires your talent, and I’m sure everybody here will appreciate your duet. What do you think?”

Dave looked towards Mister Egbert, baffled. He didn’t know if the uneasiness inside his chest was due to a strong need to punch him square in the nose or shout at him at the top of his lungs or to kiss him until they were both struggling to regain their breaths or to fuck him over the piano keys, where everybody could see and hear them both.

They were all good options, really.

In the end, he settled for nodding once and saying “Sure.”

 

\--

 

The evening was, all in all, a success.

Dave was given a seat next to Egbert’s microphone, and the man, though reluctant to agree with the deal at first, welcomed Dave to his side and took extra care to choose only the songs Dave knew by heart. At first the teen was a shivering nervous mess, even though the restaurant was a lot emptier if compared to the beginning of the evening, but as the fourth song rolled in, he felt like he was born to sing with Egbert. And staring intensively at James’ lips was also helping him get rid of his jitteriness. Not that he’d admit it, of course.

The paycheck was handed to Mister Egbert, and Mark slapped them both on their backs, saying how the night was a complete success, how everyone loved Dave’s addition to the presentation, and insisted Dave became a regular or that at least he came at least once more.

Mister Egbert smiled happily the entire drive back to Dave’s dorm. Dave could relate, though he struggled to maintain at least some of his trademark poker face during the car ride. They kissed briefly on the mouth before the teen stepped out of the car, whining about how he wished it was still Sunday and that they had time to do more than just peck. Mister Egbert chuckled, bid him good night, and drove away. Dave was glad John was already asleep, because it’d be hard to explain why he was wearing his best friend’s clothes.

On Tuesday Dave and Egbert decided to go out, since they were free for the rest of the day. Dave quirked an eyebrow when James pulled over the front of his dorm building (after being extra sure John wasn’t on the window or something) and announced they had to make a quick stop somewhere before going to the movies. They stopped ten minutes later under a three-storey building, where a kind old lady was waiting for them, a wide smile on her lips. She and Egbert greeted each other almost as if they were mother and son, and she invited them both in, leading them to a small, cozy room with three expansive looking sewing machines and a naked mannequin.

Dave cringed.

“I can’t accept this.” He whispered to James as the woman took his measurements and wrote them down on her notebook. The man only shook his head.

“Nonsense. If you’re going to sing with me, then you have to be dressed accordingly. Do you own a tuxedo, Dave?” and Dave shook his head, still looking worriedly down at the kind old woman.

“No, but still, you shouldn’t--”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie!” the woman giggled, wrapping the measuring tape around Dave’s waist. “I’ve been making James’ clothes ever since he first got that job in that office o’ his! And he looked as awkward as you do, darling. Both the most adorable cuties I ever had the pleasure to sew for.”

“I’m not awkward...” Dave mumbled, feeling his cheeks flush, and the woman laughed.

“Just trust ol’ gramma, dearie.”

End of story.

The week passed smoothly. Dave went on his own to the old woman’s house the following day to try on the paper mold she had cut for his tuxedo, and he and John visited Mister Egbert’s house as usual on Saturday for Dave’s vocal lessons. The Saturday after that, the couple went back to the old lady’s house, ready to try on the almost finished tuxedo.

“It’s _white_.” Dave commented with a downturn of his lips, clearly displeased. The woman smiled and unbuttoned his deep red vest, satisfied with her own work. The shirt Dave wore underneath was as white as the tuxedo itself – Dave swore those fabrics must’ve been in a washing powder ad somewhere, how could anything be so freaking _white_ –, red tie matching the vest beautifully; all under mister Egbert’s request and approving eyes.

“Yes, indeed it is.”

“I’ll look like a ghost.” Dave complained as he pulled his jeans over his hips, and James smiled, leaning in close to the boy’s ear.

“You’ll look like an angel.”

Unsurprisingly, Dave didn’t have a witty response to that.

 

\--

 

When Sunday came, Dave told John he’d be going out again, and John scoffed.

“Sure, _fine_ , not like I have a totally sweet movie marathon for the two of us anyway.”

“Dude, you’re chin-deep in books. You have a fucking test tomorrow.”

“Well, then maybe you should keep me company, entertain me, I don’t know. I’m so bored I think I’ll die! Or worse, I’ll fall asleep over these books and drool all over them. You use these books too, Dave. Do you want our books filled with my slobber? Do you?”

Dave chuckled, waving his head and turning his key on the lock. “Night, John. Later.”

“Yeah, bye, Dave.”

He took the bus to the Egbert’s house, and before he could even knock, Mister Egbert had already opened the door.

“Come on in, I just came back from Miss Felicia’s house.” He said as Dave closed the door behind him. “Go dress up in the guest bathroom, I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.”

Dave frowned. He’d hoped mister Egbert would help him get dressed, hoped they’d end up messing around a little, but he seemed so excited about everything, Dave had a hunch that making them both late would be bad. So he went and got dressed.

When he finally started down the stairs, Mister Egbert was already wearing his own tuxedo, a very elegant grey outfit complete with a silver vest and tie, a dashing dark grey fedora upon his head. He was puffing his pipe, almost looking nervous, which made him look much older than his actual age, until he noticed Dave.

The look of his face indicated that all the breath had been drawn out of him in that exact instant when he spotted the handsome boy slowly walking down. Dave fought the urge to blush and sing “Tale as Old as Time” as he descended the stairs as dramatically as possible, hand lightly touching the railing and everything. He stood before James, looking down at himself and then back up at Egbert. “Well?” he asked, uncertain, and James’ heart swelled with love.

He leaned down and kissed those pale lips, as gently as possible, holding himself there for a long moment before pulling back and smiling fondly at Dave. “You look absolutely stunning,” he whispered, and Dave opened his eyes just as Mister Egbert was reaching forward to pull the aviators off his face. He squinted at the sudden brightness, but allowed his sensitive red eyes to get accustomed to the light. He could see all of James’ teeth when the man smiled once again, and even though he didn’t have to squint, Dave thought to himself that that smile was much, much brighter than the room itself.

“Now you look _perfect_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tuxedo that Dave's wearing: http://www.bonardis.com/prom-tuxedos/white_tuxedo_red_dress.jpg  
> Also I thought of the "ghost" scene before "Stray" was published and thought it to be too good to pass. Sorry. :>
> 
> Last chapter will be up on Sunday!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My undying gratitude for [Johnsugois](http://johnsugois.tumblr.com/), who was my beta for the third and fourth chapter! You're a sweetie and I couldn't have done this without you <3 ty so much~~

The evening went as James expected it to go:  _flawless_. Dave, the piano, their marvelously synchronized duet, the food served to them after the restaurant was closed, Dave’s face when he opened his very own paycheck envelope – everything was marvelously perfect.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, sorry for waking you up and all that shit.” Dave said into the phone, pacing around the dim lit living room. James shot him a nasty glance, but Dave just frowned, waving him off dismissively and turning around. James only had half a second to be offended before he reminded himself that John absolutely couldn’t even suspect Dave was in his house. Not yet, at least.

“Look, jerkface, I’m calling to let you know that I’m not going home tonight. That way, if you wake up to drink water or take a piss or some shit like that at five AM or something you don’t get your panties bunched up in a twist. Be grateful that I’m fucking considerate enough to give you a heads up.” A pause. He listened as John mumbled something on the other end of the line. Dave’s muscles tensed for a couple of seconds before he straightened his back and affirmed, confidently, “I’m staying at my boyfriend’s house.”

Mister Egbert tensed as well, sensing Dave’s nervousness. He walked closer to the teen as he unbuttoned his dress shirt, trying to listen to John on the other line. Dave didn’t move, allowing the man to wait beside him for his son’s response. None was given; the line was utterly silent. Dave took a deep breath, hands curled into shaky fists.

“...John? You there?”

“ _Yeah, yeah, I’m here, it’s just..._ ” and John sighed. Mister Egbert could almost see him sitting up on the bed and rubbing the bridge of his nose, like he also did whenever he was nervous or stunned. “ _Gee, Dave, why didn’t you tell me? I thought we were best friends!_ ”

“Tell you what? That I have a boyfriend or that I’m a flaming homo eager to suck cock?”

“ _God damn it, Dave, don’t say it like that!_ ” John snapped, making both Dave and James flinch. “ _The first! Or both, whichever! You didn’t... you didn’t have to lie to me about it, about where you were going at night, on Sundays, you didn’t have to_ hideit _from me. You’re still my best friend, dude, you always have been and you will be, no matter what. I thought you knew that._ ”

“...sorry. I guess I was just... nervous or some shit.” Dave mumbled, staring at the floor and shoving his hand inside his pant pocket.

“ _...is he, like, next to you right now?_ ”

“Yeah, why?”

“ _Tell him... tell him that if he doesn’t take damn good care of you I’ll kick his ass, okay?_ ”

Dave chuckled. “He can totally hear you, dude.”

“ _Alright, then, uh... I’ll kick your ass, mister Dave’s boyfriend! Don’t you even doubt it!_ ”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure he’s scared to death of your noodle arms and your pudgy belly.”

“ _Shut up, I have awesome hammer arms and plenty of mangrit to spare, and you know it._ ”

“Right. So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“ _Yeah, uh, Dave?_ ”

“Hmm?”

“ _...thanks. For telling me, I mean._ ”

John’s voice was so quiet mister Egbert could barely hear him, but still he smiled, proud of his son. He had grown into a marvelous young man. He’d raised him well.

“Yeah. Thank you, too, for not flipping your shit too hard.”

“ _Hahaha, yeah. See ya man. Good night._ ”

“ ’Night.”

He placed the phone down on the end table beside the couch, shaking. His breath hitched, sort of relieved, sort of nervous, sort of on the edge of tears.

“Are you alright, Dave?” mister Egbert asked, worried, and Dave nodded.

“You’re really good people. You and John,” he whispered, waving his head. “I just can’t fucking believe how lucky I am to have you guys.”

Mister Egbert’s heart seemed to melt, and he placed his arms around Dave, pulling him close into a tight embrace.

“I wake up every day thinking the same thing, Dave, especially when I wake up with you in my arms. You’re too good for me. You and John.” he placed a chaste kiss on his forehead, and Dave sighed against his chest. “So thank you.”

The teen chuckled, draping his arms around Mister Egbert’s middle. “For what?” he asked, closing his eyes and basking in the scent of the man’s cologne, wonderfully intoxicating. Mister Egbert smiled.

“ _Everything_.”

 

\--

 

One moment, they were standing in the middle of the living room, hugging, neither wanting to ever let go; the next they were looking into each other’s eyes, James basking in the rare opportunity of staring so intensively at Dave’s naked irises. When the sound of their accelerated heartbeats was too loud to be ignored, the teen finally leaned up to kiss those lips, impatient to press against them, feel their warmth, their softness...

James met him halfway, pressing his mouth against Dave’s, sighing happily and smiling as he cradled the back of the boy’s head against his palm. Dave whined, feeling so much more than there actually was in that firm yet caring touch, and he reached up, throwing both arms over Egbert’s shoulders and lacing his thin arms against his neck, one hand hanging loosely behind it, the other sliding his splayed out fingers against the man’s scalp, combing his black hair back and tipping the hat perched on top of his head to the side.

They don’t remember how, or when, or just who did what, but they couldn’t care less; before they even knew it, they were already all over the couch, Dave straddling Mister Egbert’s lap as the man leaned against the backrest. The teen hummed softly, feeling the kiss getting sloppier and more desperate, hands sliding down and caressing everywhere he could reach. He still had his white shirt and red vest on – the tuxedo’s blazer and his red tie were long discarded, both placed over the coat hanger as soon as he walked inside the house – while James had already gotten rid of the upper part of his attire, except for his fedora, perched precariously over his head. He only had his pants, socks and shoes on, and Mister Egbert thought for a second, suddenly feeling extremely adventurous,  _now, that’s not fair at all_.

So before he could change his mind or some other  _insane_  thing like that, he untangled his hands from Dave’s body, reaching for the shiny red buttons of his vest and quickly moving down to the white ones of his dress shirt. Dave stopped kissing him almost instantly, looking down at his own chest as nimble pianist fingers quickly snapped open button after button. James did consider making a little show of opening each and every button as slowly as possible, staring into Dave’s startlingly red eyes  _just_   _so_ , but the moment called for a different kind of pace, a different kind of tease.

 _I haven’t had sex in **years**_ , he thought to himself as he pulled Dave’s shirt up, moving down to unzip his fly and snap the silver button open, and before Dave could say anything, he shoved his hand inside the teen’s pants, feeling the hardening erection against his palm. The yelp Dave made and the shudder that spread through his body was downright obscene in all the right ways, and finally Mister Egbert looked up, nose touching with Dave’s as he panted.

“If you want me to stop,” he began, but Dave swallowed hard and cried out, rutting against the hand on his crotch.

“Fuck, don’t stop,  _please!_ ” he begged, hiding his face on the crook of the man’s neck, nipping and sucking at his bare flesh. Mister Egbert sighed, closing his eyes, focusing on the feeling of the rock hard erection on his hand and the sensation of the boy’s teeth and tongue nibbling on the tendons and muscles of his neck, positively melting him away. His free hand pulled Dave’s shirt and vest off, hanging the clothes over his bent elbows and revealing the boy’s pale chest. He remembered that morning, after their first kiss, how badly he wanted to ravish that fragile looking skin, and just as the memory was making him slightly lightheaded, Dave bit him,  _hard_ , causing his dick to pulse inside his slacks and a low cry escape from his lips, half pained, half aroused. Dave breathed out, slowly, his warm breath cooling the saliva on the ravished spot and making a small shiver run down Mister Egbert’s spine. “Hmmm, you sing beautifully, Mister Egbert...”

He noticed the double meaning behind the teen’s words and decided to make it his goal to make the boy sing just as marvelously. James tightens his hold to Dave’s member thought the cotton of his underwear, using his free hand to squeeze one of his ass cheeks though the fabric of his tuxedo’s pants.

“Yessss, oh my god,  _James...!_ ” Dave hissed, trying to scoot closer to get a feel of the man’s hardening erection, and  _god_  he ached. He ached all over, body hot and pliant under the man’s hands, pale fingers sliding over tanned skin and brushing against the dark hair on his chest, his arm, his back. His hands roamed down, dipped under the man’s waistband and held on tightly to his hips as he rested his suddenly heavy head against his shoulder. “God,  _oh my god_ —“

“Shhhh,” Mister Egbert cooed as he rubbed his palm against Dave’s dick, making the teen cry out yet again as he pulled down the zipper of his grey pants with his other hand. “Shhh, Dave, lower, or the neighbors might hear us...”

 ** _Fuck_** _the neighbors, let them hear_ , Dave thought, and he would’ve said it too, if he was in any position to speak coherently. As soon as Mister Egbert’s already rock hard erection was freed from the confinement of his pants, he released Dave, who desperately humped against the man’s thigh in need for friction.

“Ja-James…”

“Shh, don’t worry, I’m here, I’m here...” he whispered, scooting his pants halfway down his thighs so that his penis was fully out and on display, and he tried pulling Dave’s own down as well. Immediately the boy took the hint, untangling himself from the body beneath him for a second to pull his white pants all the way down, flinging them and the shirt and vest hanging from his arms down onto the coffee table. He quickly readjusted his hips over the man’s lap, eyeing his erection hungrily, a pleasant rush of warmth running down his belly to rest comfortably at the base of his cock.

“Fuck...” he whispered, wrapping a shaky hand around the stiff muscle. Mister Egbert closed his eyes and moaned. “You’re  _huge_.”

“Sorry...” he said, and Dave shook his head.

“The hell you apologizing for?  _God_. I always knew you were perfect, but... holy crap, James.”

He chuckled. “Was that a compliment? Because it hardly seemed like one.”

“Shut up.” Dave growled with no spite behind his words, pumping said enormous dick excitedly, and Mister Egbert gasped, chuckling lowly.

“Now, now, don’t be so...  _aaah_ , hostile, Dave.” He murmured, holding the teen’s behind on both hands and kneading the soft flesh gently, appreciating how well his palms fit against the globes of Dave’s ass, as if they were custom made for him. Dave hummed in approval, nudging closer until their bodies were flush against each other and their dicks sandwiched between their bellies. Dave uncurled his fingers from Mister Egbert’s cock just long enough to snatch both their members awkwardly in one stretched handful, and he pulled both their foreskins down.

“G-goodness...!” Mister Egbert cried out. Dave made a mental note of how fucking cute he was, unable to curse even in this situation. He pulled again, quickly building a steady rhythm, feeling sweat begin to form over their skin. Dave kissed the man’s lips desperately, acting as if the contact was their lifeline at that moment, and he moaned and gasped with every touch, every squirm, every word of encouragement he got from his lover.

“That’s it, that’s it, oh David, oh god, that’s it David, that’s, oh my lord,  _Dave_...” James muttered heatedly, and Dave hid his face in the crook of the man’s shoulder when he wasn’t coordinated enough to kiss properly. His hand fastened its pace, his hips matched his movements, and he was so sensitive he could actually feel every single pulse of that hot, thick member beneath his fingers, against the underside of his own penis. It got to a point where Dave stopped paying attention to what he was saying, to what they were both saying, to how loud they were being or what he was doing and what was actually happening around him.

“J-James, James, ooh, I’m,  _I’m gonna...!_ ” he screamed, biting the shoulder beneath his lips, and James muttered ,“Yes that’s it, that’s it,  _sing_  for me, David, come, come,  _come,_ ” squeezing and pulling the handful of ass towards himself, biting the teen’s earlobe as he enunciated that last word as roughly and demanding as possible. Dave shuddered, moaned, screamed, all at once, finally giving in and releasing into his hand and James’ chest.

Everything stopped for a few seconds, and then he slackened his jaw, feeling slightly bad for leaving such a terrible looking bite mark onto Mister Egbert’s neck. He hoped the bruise would fade at least a little by morning. Slowly, he began regaining his senses and realized that, while his erection was still hoisted up despite not being rock hard anymore (god bless teen hormones and stamina), Mister Egbert’s dick  _begged_  for attention.

“You alright?” the older man asked, and Dave nodded, gulping.

“Never been better, actually,” and Egbert knew he meant it, despite his physical exhaustion and the sweat cooling all over his body. He looked down again and realized with a frown that James was beginning to flag with the lack of attention.

 _Not under my watch_. In a mere second he slid off the man’s lap, knelt on the floor and placed both hands on James’ inner thighs, who widened his eyes in astonishment.

“Dave, what are yo-- _oh, aaaah…!_ ”

 _Fucking jackpot_ , Dave thought, his mouth sinking down onto the older man. He could only take half of the member inside his mouth, but he didn’t care, because he knew it was plenty, especially for how far gone Egbert already was after all the frotting they just did. Dave could tell the man was getting closer, and he thought to himself,  _rude, why did you come first anyway_. He knew James didn’t mind, and that he’d insist he’d be plenty satisfied even if he didn’t get off at all.

But Dave... Dave wouldn’t be satisfied with that.  _Hell no._

If he had to be completely frank, Dave was just  _dying_  to get a taste of the enormous meat rod pressing against him the moment he laid eyes on its glory. Even though said taste was slightly obscured by the salty and tangy flavor of his own spunk, he greedily lapped at the warm flesh to make up for it, deciding to make it thoroughly clean so  he could get a taste of Egbert’s skin, his sweat, his precum, his—

“D-Dave, y-you don’t have to... ah!” James moaned and gasped above Dave, making all sorts of filthy, embarrassing sounds. No women – or men, mind him – that he’s ever been with had made him feel that way. It wasn’t because Dave was extremely good at it, since it was obvious he had never done it before... It was because of Dave’s enthusiasm and the desire in his eyes whenever he pulled back to examine his work, how he licked clean all trace of his very own cum off his penis, how he used his semen slicked hand to pump whatever he couldn’t fit into his mouth as he went down on Mister Egbert, humming and moaning happily, like a kid eating a delicious treat that he’s been craving for a long, long time.

And, honestly, that was  _exactly_  how Dave felt like.

It didn’t take very long for the older man to become a writhing mess on the couch, clutching tightly at Dave’s hair and the soft cushion of the seat. When he sensed the man’s thighs shaking, heard his voice pitching and the hand on his hair pulling, Dave smiled. He sucked harder, pumped faster, and sent Mister Egbert over the edge as he screamed and moaned loudly, completely forgetting about the neighbors (and after he was calm enough to be coherent, he thought to himself, _neighbors be damned_ ).

Dave stilled his mouth over the tip of James’ cock, waited until the last of his orgasm had passed, and swallowed, pulling back and licking his red and swollen lips, not even caring that he didn’t have his shades on. James looked down, eyes foggy with lust and tiredness, slumped down on the couch. He was completely worn out, and Dave felt damn proud of himself for it.

“ _God_ ,” was all James could say, more than a little breathless. Dave chuckled.

“So I’m guessing it was good for you too?” he asked, all smug, and Mister Egbert couldn’t help but grin.

“Don’t flatter yourself, David. You still have a lot to learn,” he told him. When Dave got to his feet and offered Egbert a hand, he took it, getting up from the couch in one swift motion (and realizing all his gym work had paid off, because despite his advanced age, nothing ached or cracked when he did so). “I believe a shower is in order?” he asked, looking down at himself.

“You mean the bathtub upstairs?” Dave widened his eyes, already liking the prospect of his lover’s offer, and Mister Egbert raised a single brow.

“Dave, it’s  _one am_.”

“Don’t worry, babe,” he smiled, taking the man’s wrist and turning around. He made sure to sway his hips as sensually as possible as he made his way upstairs, knowing that Egbert would surely be ogling it. He looked back for a second to the sight of a stunned looking James, and he waggled his eyebrows at him. “I’ll keep you up all night long if I have to.”

 

\--

 

When Dave woke up the next day, he found himself alone, curled up in between the sheets and blankets of the master bedroom, naked still. He yawned and curled up a bit more, pulling the blankets to his chest, feeling light, warm and happy.

He quickly realized the reason why he woke up: classic music, as well as the fantastic scent of pancakes and fresh coffee, coming from downstairs. Nut instead of getting up and going about, he closed his eyes, breathing deeply and basking in the contentment he was feeling. He even considered falling asleep again, hugging James’ pillow, which still smelt and felt like him...

Until he noticed that the music was, partially, coming from James himself.

He sneaked downstairs, still sluggish from sleep, not even caring if he was butt naked and feeling a little cold without the blankets he slept in. He stopped at the kitchen’s doorframe, where he leaned against the wooden arch and watched, a small smirk on his face.

Mister Egbert had a small stereo on top of the kitchen counter, where a CD played the instrumentals for the song “Con Te Partirò”, and the man sang. He sang with all his heart and an enthusiasm and giddiness Dave has never seen in him before. A pan in one hand and the other busy fetching plates from the top cabinet, the man swung his hips and practically skipped around the kitchen, wearing only a pair of white boxers, flipping pancakes and singing and dancing like a little kid (with a fantastic voice, but a kid nevertheless). He was smiling, and he looked about fifteen years younger, even with the occasional white hair that only barely shows on his chest and the roots of his pitch black hair.

When the song was done, so were the pancakes, and the man turned around towards the kitchen table, a plate with a stack of pancakes doused in syrup in each hand. He stopped as soon as he saw Dave, hesitating for a second before smiling widely again. Dave loved how the corners of his eyes crinkled just so.

“Good morning, Dave!” He exclaimed cheerfully, and Dave smiled back, chest swelling with fondness. “Hungry?”

And he thought to himself,  _god_.

_I fucking love this man._

He didn’t say it out loud, though. He decided that then wasn’t the opportune moment, but he thought,  _soon_.

And as they ate pancakes and drank coffee and talked to each other as if they were already lifelong partners, Dave saw the two of them growing old together. He wondered how John’s face will look like once they tell him. He wondered how James’ face will look like when he confesses. He wondered if they’ll be able to perform at that restaurant again, and if he can become a regular, just like it was offered to him, and not for the paycheck, but for the joy of being able to sing with James.

He wondered all these things, and secretly, so did James, but both pushed these nagging thoughts aside, instead focusing on the delicious breakfast they were having and the beautiful sunny morning ahead of them.

And they didn’t worry about what ifs, or whens, or maybes, and nor will they ever.

They merely hold each other tightly and  _sing_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEADCANNON TIME: "Con Te Partirò" is James' favorite music ever, and he played that song at his friend's restaurant the first time he was there, and the man almost begged him to become a regular. James laughed, thanked the man for all his compliments and told him he'd be there whenever he could spare the time, since he obviously couldn't just quit his job (though he'd probably have a career change in a heartbeat if it meant singing and playing on his piano every night).  
> He plays every day after he retires though. And he's happy as a happy person can be.  
> God bless happy endings :')


End file.
